


Understand

by Merci



Category: Bleach
Genre: Enemy Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Violence, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-11
Updated: 2008-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merci/pseuds/Merci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya keeps a cool exterior to those around him, knowing the danger in letting someone in and how that could compromise his position.  Ulquiorra never let anyone in, knowing the responsibility and authority he bore was an honour.  However, there was something about the shinigami captain that caught his attention, making him lower his guard for a moment, letting Byakuya make his move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understand

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Byakuya, Ulquiorra, or Bleach. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
> 
> I can see the appeal of this pairing, but I really wasn’t sure how to make it work.  (I like how they’re both so introverted and strong.  It’s a nice common factor!)  So… this is what I was able to come up with.  I read over the chapter where Byakuya was fighting the ninth espada and I didn't notice him use contractions.  That put him higher on the chain of command in my book, like he was more in control of himself, and Ulquiorra, while he speaks properly, still uses contractions, which is a bit of a lazy way of speaking. *is stabbed by Ulquiorra*
> 
> I referenced [this art](http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/view/441340/) by xshelaghx while writing this. It was _very_ inspirational.

Ulquiorra raised both hands, barely catching the downward swing of Byakuya’s zanpaktou.  The grind of metal against his palms filled his senses, lighting his nerves on fire and setting off warning signals.  This shinigami was dangerous, and yet he was holding back.  Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes, Byakuya had been trapped in Hueco Mundo for a few days, and it was understandable he would hold back.  The path out of the arrancar world was dangerous, and this shinigami would need to save his strength if he hoped to return to soul society.  It was for this that he fought with reserved power.

Ulquiorra curled his lip; he understood why the captain would hold back, but he still couldn’t explain why _he_ was holding back.

+++  
+++

Aizen’s plan was perfect.  He had planned everything down to the last detail, including knowing soul society would send backup for Ichigo.  He knew the backup would include captain-class shinigami and that they would destroy any Espada that attacked them.  It was all a distraction, leaving the ex-captain room to continue with his main goals.  Ulquiorra had observed from the shadows as a few Espada travelled out to pick fights with the shinigami captains and the battles had commenced. 

He watched as the arrancar scientist, Szayel Aporro Grantz met his shinigami counterpart.  The fourth Espada recorded a portion of the encounter with his eye, but quickly lost interest as both shinigami and arrancar postured and proclaimed a sick love for science.  Neither of them actually attacked the other directly, and Ulquiorra had no patience to listen to Grantz’s ego compete against a formidable opponent.  They were made for each other, and their boasting left a foul taste in Ulquiorra’s mouth.  He turned from that battle, looking for something more interesting to record with his eye.

He found himself moving along to the tower of the ninth Espada, Aaroniero Arruruerie.  The battle – if it could be called that – between Aaroniero and the shinigami, Rukia, had been wasteful.  In the end, Rukia had destroyed the ninth Espada who left her at death’s door; none of it had real concern to Ulquiorra.  Aizen had accounted for everything that happened, including Rukia barely surviving the battle.  Ulquiorra stepped in, remaining in the shadows as he observed Zomari le Roux, the seventh Espada, moving in and taking it upon himself to execute Rukia.

The seventh Espada postured himself as some holier than thou knight, intent on tying up Aaroniero’s loose ends.  “Rest in peace, Aaroniero,” he said in a loud voice to no one but himself.  “I will follow through with what you could not.”

Ulquiorra watched as a newcomer rushed in, placing himself between the fallen shinigami and the arrancar.  He narrowed his green eyes, taking in this new shinigami in a glimpse.  He understood everything about him, his power levels, his fighting technique, he could even pick out what his Bankai might look like, and yet, Ulquiorra found himself pausing in his analysis.  Something seemed to radiate from the shinigami; something he could see, but not yet identify.

He flexed his fingers from their place in his pockets.  There was something proud and pretentious about this one.  Kuchiki Byakuya.

“Is the one who fought with _that_ you?” the shinigami Captain asked, indicating the fallen shinigami, sprawled out on the floor behind him. 

Ulquiorra watched, recording the captain’s simmering reiatsu as he spoke, listening with a neutral expression as Zomari indicated his intentions.  The reiatsu shifted.  The fourth Espada detected a change in the air, suddenly feeling cold, though his eye could not see the variance.  Instead, the shinigami’s form became firm, solid and heavy with burning reiatsu.  Ulquiorra watched, remembering that which his eye could not pick up.

“… I don’t comprehend,” Byakuya spoke as Zomari tried to speak.  His form became fuzzy around the edges, as if his reiatsu were becoming thick and agitated.  And then… he moved.

The fight progressed.  Ulquiorra could see Zomari becoming reckless, allowing his clones to take damaged as his confidence rushed up to overstep his abilities.  Byakuya remained calm throughout the entire battle, and something about that chipped away at Ulquiorra’s nerves.  His eye could not detect what it was and that concern burned in his subconscious as he watched the remainder of the fight.  Whatever it was, it would surely come out once Zomari released his true form.  Ulquiorra found Zomari’s released form both intriguing and boring.  The sight of brujeria was an ability that allowed the arrancar to possess another’s limb or entire body.  If one was unlucky and became marked with its inky black eye, they were completely at Zomari’s mercy. 

The shinigami stood his ground as the seventh Espada cast his power out, quickly snaring his left leg with the vicious ability.  The seventh Espada began explaining his power, laughing as he forced the captain to move against his will, and then…

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow as Byakuya slashed through the muscle and tendons of his left leg.  The moment he realized Zomari had taken control over that limb, the shinigami had removed its ability to function.  It was unbelievable the will he possessed.  The next attack captured his arm, which he slashed apart as well.

Ulquiorra watched him for a long time, watching the blood dripping from his injured limbs.  It was nearly mesmerizing as it flowed down his arm, and yet, what captured his attention was the captain’s face, which remained impassive and strong.  Commanding.  Respectable.  His brow twitched slightly – the only outward sign that he was irritated. 

The pale Espada closed his eyes; it was bothersome that he could not see everything about this shinigami.  He could sense something beneath what he saw.  It was disturbing and left him feeling uneasy.  He would follow the captain for a time until he could discern what that feeling was, if it was some hidden power that could threaten Aizen’s plans.  His eye was powerful and could see and remember everything, and yet, there was something beyond him he wasn’t seeing.  Something right in front of him.

+++

Ulquiorra paced in his chamber, his hands buried deep in his pockets as he replayed images of the shinigami captain in his mind.  His eye recalled in perfect detail the fight with Zomari and the ease with which Byakuya moved, dispatching the seventh Espada.  The captain had done so as if Zomari were nothing.  Just like trash.

The fourth Espada would not have called his fellow elite trash, though, many of them behaved as such.  Their skills may have been exemplary, yet they way they conducted themselves was deplorable and left Ulquiorra looking at them with well-concealed distain.  They could all burn and he would feel nothing for them.  Aizen was aware of this, and yet, knew how to put them to use.  He had his uses as well, and Ulquiorra’s dedication to his position earned him trust.

Not complete.  No, never total trust, but more than his compatriots.  Ulquiorra’s dedication to his role was absolute.  It took first priority in everything he did; his own needs came second or third.  He was a tool, after all.  That fact had not bothered him for his entire existence under Aizen’s command.  It shouldn’t have.

He felt the air in Las Noches shift, calling to him.  Aizen required his presence and he pressed his fingers together, snapping them in a short and precise gesture that tore a hole through space, bringing him right to the throne room.  He nodded slowly, acknowledging that he was in charge as Aizen made his move.

The trust placed in him was not complete, but he was given some freedom to deal with his prisoner.

Orihime waited for him at the edge of the row, near-shivering in the shadows where she had been left.  She looked at him with the same wide, grey eyes she always did.  Ulquiorra tilted his head as he walked forward; there was something about her that he could not see clearly either.  She mentioned her heart so often – it must have been a human trait – and it grated on his nerves.  She referenced her emotions and _showed_ them so readily.  He could see everything about her, except for her reasons.

He approached her, about to ask her to explain when he sensed someone approaching.  He snapped his fingers, tearing a hole through space into his chamber.  “I haven’t been instructed to kill you,” he said as he pushed her inside.  Whoever was rushing in to meet him was powerful and familiar and he let the opening stitch closed just as he felt a strong surge of reiatsu land behind him.

+++  
+++

Ulquiorra’s foot dug into the floor as he skidded backwards.  The attacks were more powerful than he had expected, though he kept his face neutral.  He had been expecting Ichigo to rush forward to save Orihime.  Aizen’s invitation was open to all, and he had truly expected the orange-haired substitute shinigami to be the one eager to save the girl. 

The fourth Espada frowned inwardly; he could not see why this man had come in his place.  The black-haired shinigami who stood before him came without his captain’s haori and showing signs of his arm recently being healed.  There was no way he could have been operating at full strength, and yet, Ulquiorra was forced to use both hands.  He widened his eyes, trying to see the thing he was feeling.  Was it the way Byakuya moved or his silent communication with his blade?  It was a familiar air that grated right to Ulquiorra’s bone.  He was not fighting for revenge or honour…

The pale Espada blocked another attack and fixed Byakuya with a hard stare.  He should not have been fighting at all, and yet… it was as if his purpose paralleled Ulquiorra’s own.  As if he fought out of duty and responsibility, a purpose greater than himself. 

Byakuya did not feel like trash.

Ulquiorra pressed his attack and the shinigami skidded backward, kicking up a small cloud of dust as he fought to maintain his footing and toppled backwards.  He clattered against the steps up to Aizen’s throne and the Espada stepped up to him.  His eye twitched, replaying images of the shinigami’s previous fight in juxtaposition to this battle.  No matter which battle he observed, this shinigami, this captain did not feel like trash.  He felt… better, _superior_ to the fourth Espada in some unknown way. 

Byakuya had injured himself to save the lesser shinigami, Rukia.  The girl was weak, dying.  She should have been forgotten, but, instead, he took responsibility for her life.  Their power levels were comparable, but Byakuya seemed to have something above the arrancar… and it bothered Ulquiorra. 

He breathed heavily, feeling energy buzzing around him like invisible flames.  It burned and he felt the first layers of control begin to fray off his mind, hanging and flying in loose tendrils around his thoughts.  He tried to remain calm, to show nothing of the fiery anger beneath his surface.  His fists relaxed at his sides, though he could feel his eyes burning down into the prostrate shinigami.  This one should have been trash like the rest, but the black-haired shinigami made _him_ feel like trash instead. 

He steadied his breathing, stepping closer to Byakuya, intending to see what it was about the other man that made him feel so… tense.  He leaned closer, half-watching the way the shinigami’s body twitched, noticing all-too late as the dark-haired captain jerked his frame to the side, kicking out and knocking him to the ground as well.

Ulquiorra rolled to the side, gracelessly ready to retaliate, but Byakuya was on him in an instant and he realized – though could not believe – that he was pinned beneath the taller creature’s body.  He tested the shinigami’s strength, suddenly desperate to push him away, but his struggles stopped as Byakuya pressed in close.  He stopped moving, held there by nothing more than a stern, disarming… disconcerting look that bore into him and froze him where he lay.

His fingers twitched, aching to drive upward and grasp at the shinigami’s throat, tear a hole through him just to shift that unidentifiable look to something more familiar burning in those black orbs.  He could feel it; something was bubbling inside of him, some ignored tension pushing itself forward and he sucked in a breath, unwilling to give the shinigami an inch on him.  His mind raced, searching for a way to break the hold this black-haired captain held over him, and in the search, his subconscious took hold.  It replayed the images in his eye, focusing on the way Byakuya moved and drawing out his desires.  He shuddered in horror as it whispered ideas and made him feel the firm weight, comfortable _heat_ of that body.  His mind seemed to venture down that path, distracting him.

His eyes went blank as their struggles drew them close and his breath caught in his throat.  He shuddered as realization suddenly tore through his mind when he felt the softness of Byakuya’s lips as they moved against his.  Those lips that were willing and probing and…  Ulquiorra wrenched back suddenly, horrified at what he had done and utterly confused.

Trash.  The shinigami made him feel that way, but he had just proved that feeling to be true.  Aizen had given him the rank of fourth.  He was the fourth-strongest Espada with a duty greater than all other arrancar, but three.  He commanded and others obeyed him because of his strength.  Because of his authority, he was trusted to watch over Las Noches.  He was in control of the palace and yet he couldn’t even control his own body’s urges.  He felt a hiss burning in his throat, echoing in the hole there.  How could he look at Aizen again when he had proven to himself that he was nothing but weak trash?

The arrancar turned his head when Byakuya leaned in again, feeling the terrible mixture of shame and arousal tumbling in his guts.  The hot breath he felt on his cheek and the way the shinigami moved above him, straddling his legs and sitting heavily on his thighs.  That heavy pressure was delicious, pressing the feeling that churned in his guts, pushing it lower still.  He inhaled sharply and forced himself to look back at the shinigami, glaring intently into those dark eyes and seeing his reflection in their smouldering, black depths.

The shinigami didn’t move and Ulquiorra listened to his breathing for a moment as he tried to gather his thoughts.  He could feel the weight of Byakuya’s reiatsu pressing down onto him, and he recalled the way that reiatsu had simmered during the battle against Zomari.  He had maintained control of that power, always keeping it under reign as his responsibility dictated.  His authority burned down and Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes, feeling his own mind reflecting that duty.

“Get off,” he finally hissed, his body going rigid, suddenly feeling their similarities burning into his mind.  He recognized the authority burning in those dark eyes; responsibility and duty to his cause, to those beneath him – to that girl – but there was something more.

Byakuya held him firmly, making the Espada uncomfortable.  The moment could have lasted only a heartbeat, but to Ulquiorra it felt like long minutes with the shinigami bearing down on him, seeming to strip away his power with an authority he couldn’t touch.  That energy intensified as Byakuya leaned forward, his face expressionless as he kissed the arrancar.

Ulquiorra tried to wrench away, but couldn’t move as that mouth descended upon him, reconnecting them.  He hesitated briefly before the warmth seemed to pool into him and he felt his mouth kissing back, amazed at the feeling of someone willing and alive against him.

He felt Byakuya guide his tongue deep within his mouth, his fist tightening in Ulquiorra’s clothes and holding him there a long moment before he decided to pull back.  Ulquiorra panted, feeling his cheeks burning hot and he frowned.  He… wanted that.  He enjoyed it and wanted more… but something at the back of his mind was telling him to resist.

He had responsibility.  Even though he was weak, he shouldn’t throw it all away.  He couldn’t turn his back on Aizen for simple pleasures.  He had to remain strong, even though he could feel his reiatsu mingling with the shinigami’s aura and every caress of power made his heart beat faster.

That singular thought of resisting out of duty gave him strength to struggle once more, kicking out and attempting to push the shinigami back.  Others were counting on him; he couldn’t afford to be weak for a second.  Couldn’t allow himself to give into any pleasure.  Duty came before all else.

His struggles were short-lived as the captain grabbed his wrist, pinning it above his head and leaned down with unforgiving eyes.  He seemed to look Ulquiorra over before his eyes lightened to a frown, “You don’t know what to do with yourself… don’t you know how to take care of your frustrations before facing an opponent?”

Ulquiorra narrowed his gaze and kept quiet.  His frustrations?  He tried to take matters like this in hand when he could, rubbing out his frustrations alone in the dark of his chambers, but with Aizen’s looming plans, and his near-constant vigil over Orihime… it had been impossible.  He shifted beneath the captain, feeling his clothed erection brushing the inside of Byakuya’s thigh.  The pressure was insistent and the contact sent a shock of desire through his body.  He wanted to groan, it was amazing.  Ulquiorra paused at that thought.  Maybe he was wrong, maybe Byakuya meant… what they were doing at the moment.  Not masturbating, but actually finding someone else to lie with and fuck? 

He wanted to laugh; he couldn’t open himself to someone else.  Not another arrancar.  His position and duty… if one of his fraccion got it into their head that he could be manipulated through sex, his authority would be compromised!  His desires were not required to serve Aizen and he could not compromise his authority with any of his subordinates.  He couldn’t let them in, making himself vulnerable.

His mind flashed to other Espada who, he knew, used force to get what they wanted.  That force maintained their subordinates’ fear of them.  Sex was a tool used to mold fraccion to their wills, and fear of sex carved power out of weak souls.

Fear was superfluous to Ulquiorra and he had built his reputation without it.  He understood this required some sacrifices, he would not allow any arrancar to see him as one step below his rank.  He was the fourth and could not compromise that for anything, not even his own comfort or pleasure.

He felt his body pressing up against the shinigami.

 _He’d never used force on another arrancar, not even the lowest fraccion._

He clenched his fist as Byakuya released his arm, trailing his fingers down to close around the horn on his hollow mask.

 _He’d never acted upon any of his tensions and desires, just late at night when it became too much and his wandering fingers pulled and scratched at the burning hardness between his legs._

He arched up, dragging his torso against Byakuya’s lean, muscular frame.  He tilted his chin upward, the gesture dragging the shinigami down to kiss him, firmly and without regret.

He never imagined he could touch someone without compromising his status as the fourth Espada.  Kissing a shinigami might not have been the best alternative, but at that moment, he didn’t care.  He would destroy the shinigami in the morning, but right then… he gasped as Byakuya kissed him and let loose a throaty moan as enemy fingers trailed around the edges of his hollow hole. 

He arched again, twisting his hips to feel the weight of the shinigami’s body against him.  He felt a hardness digging into his abdomen and a rush jolted through his body.  He needed, wanted, _craved_.  His body was alight with sensations and emotions as he allowed himself to feel them.

Byakuya was so much like him; he understood the ache of repression and denial.  The shinigami appeared to be the driving force of their encounter, but his body was just as tense.  His breath still rasped in his throat, still showed that, despite his posturing, he was nearly as repressed as the Espada.  It seemed that, even for someone aware of their body’s needs, it was difficult to trust anyone, someone willing to forget their status for just one night.

Ulquiorra wanted to laugh; he was the last person this shinigami should trust.  He felt his body tense up.  Byakuya was the last person he could trust as well, but his illogical reasoning looked beyond their ranks.  Byakuya was the only person he could do this with, the only one who understood his duty and could ignore it.  He bent his knee, pressing his thigh between Byakuya’s legs and parting the sinewy limbs.  He could feel the shinigami rest heavily on his leg, sliding down his thigh until his pelvis rested against Ulquiorra’s hip.  The shinigami was acting on all his desires, giving in to what his body craved.  Ulquiorra felt a pang of envy as he still wanted to hold back; a force of habit that robbed his hands of confidence as he began pushing the robes from Byakuya’s shoulders.

The dark-haired captain hissed into his mouth, taking the Espada’s hands in his own and directing them to his bare chest.  He said nothing and Ulquiorra recognized the lesson: he needed to learn to let go.  Ulquiorra took a breath and spread his fingers against the shinigami’s chest, feeling the firm, strong muscle beneath Byakuya’s collarbone.  He noticed a bead of sweat trailing down Byakuya’s throat and snapped forward, lapping up the salty liquid with his tongue.  He could feel the captain’s body moving against his, helping to remove his clothing, but the Espada could only taste the delicious spot in the shinigami’s chest.  He licked, irritated by the lack of opening there.  The feeling burned across his mind, leaving him with the impression there should be a hollow hole in the shinigami’s throat.  He licked and bit at the bony juncture until Byakuya pulled back to sit on his haunches. 

Ulquiorra looked up from his place on the ground, feeling the cool air hitting his bare chest now that the shinigami had put some space between them.  He breathed deeply, his lungs suddenly needing more than he could inhale and the hole at his neck ached.  It hurt.  Everywhere the shinigami touched _burned_ : his hole, chest, his abdomen… He shuddered as Byakuya trailed his rough fingers along his torso, working the ties to his hakama and Ulquiorra did nothing to stop him.  He watched with unreadable eyes as the black bands loosened and his white garments fell aside.  A shudder spread across his body as Byakuya touched him again.  They were rough and hard, ghosting over his lower abdomen like lightly falling sakura petals.

He watched the captain move, observing as he drew those peculiar sensations from his body and he arched up into his embrace like a lover.  He wrapped his fingers around Byakuya’s wrist, squeezing tightly, stopping those nails from scratching any deeper into the fine hair trailing up his abdomen.  Those dark eyes bore into him, wide and questioning.

The Espada dug his nails into the captain’s wrist, drawing a hitching breath as he guided those fingers lower.  Byakuya seemed to understand and allowed the arrancar to guide his actions, letting the arrancar guide his tentative release of duty.  Ulquiorra felt his senses awash in desire as he sat up, pulling the shinigami against him.  His black lips desperately seeking that mouth that was as unforgiving as he was merciless.  Those lips that were seemingly unyielding and cold, but pliant and hot as Ulquiorra sucked gripped him tighter, biting at the tongue that pushed its way inside his mouth.

He closed his eyes and let go of the voice telling him to hold back, to attack rather than to feel.

He held Byakuya’s shoulders in a death grip, doing what he wanted, rather than what he knew was right.  He was only so strong because of Aizen, and what was right was what Aizen asked of him.  What he ordered.

He only lived to further Aizen’s plan.  It was what he had been elevated for – but he couldn’t stop the selfish urges and Byakuya was the first person who pushed aside his resistance and ignored the danger that came with fucking an Espada.  It might have been dangerous to fuck a captain as well, but nothing could deter Ulquiorra from continuing on.

Byakuya moved lower, lavishing his throat before his mouth made Ulquiorra moan deep in his chest, bucking into the hand that delved beneath his clothing and wrapped around his aching erection.  The shinigami held him captive as his teeth worked the edge of his hollow hole.  The Espada bucked again, his chest heaving as splashes of white appeared behind his vision.  The gaping wound in his soul was tender and jagged around the edges.  He never imagined he could still feel so much from the old injury.  It was as if the soul chain had ripped away, leaving raw nerve endings that Byakuya nipped and licked at, pushing the arrancar beyond thought and into pure feeling.

He bucked against the shinigami, dragging his nails down his torso, working the ties around the hakama, sliding his fingers along the captain’s bare skin and pushing the garment away.  Byakuya sat up, giving him more access as he dragged his nails down the shinigami’s milky-white skin.

“Good,” Byakuya purred, nuzzling Ulquiorra’s chest as the Espada touched him with growing urgency.  “Very good.”

The words were comforting, encouraging and completely… _alien_.  He had never heard words spoken in that tone, except maybe by Orihime.  Yet, these did not fill him with contempt for the one who spoke them.  It was not weakness.  When Byakuya said them… he wanted to hear more.  To be guided to experience more of this… feeling.

He could feel the heat pooling from between Byakuya’s legs as he reached inside.  He could feel his muscled thighs shifting as he reached with confident fingers, dragging his thumb along the underside before taking hold of Byakuya’s erection in a firm grip.  He felt a rush spread through his abdomen as he was rewarded with a groan.  “You’ve done this before.”

“No,” the Espada murmured, fascinated by the way Byakuya’s pale erection looked against his own paler shaft.  He stroked them together.  “Not with someone else,” he corrected, his voice catching in his throat as their dicks rubbed together.  Their skin was soft and dry, catching against each other as they mindlessly rocked against one another.

Byakuya frowned at the statement.  His brows knit together in irritation before a twitch of excitement lessened their severity, though the unasked question remained.

“I mean, I’ve never done this without holding back.”  Ulquiorra said, suddenly pushing the shinigami back and crawling between his firm thighs.  He crawled along the length of the captain’s frame, running his fingers through Byakuya’s soft hair as he climbed up to straddle his lap.  The white hakama fell away as he crawled, dragged along Byakuya’s own falling garments that were pushed somewhere behind them.

Ulquiorra’s skin prickled in the cool air as he sat heavily in Byakuya’s lap.  He felt nothing holding him back.  Nothing at all. 

He spread his thighs wide, feeling his prick resting against the captain’s thick erection.  He ground forward, enjoying the feeling spreading up through his abdomen as he braced a hand on Byakuya’s chest and licked his fingers.

He knew what he wanted.  He saw how this was going and at that moment, he would show Byakuya just how little he held back.  He withdrew his fingers from his mouth, leaving a trail of saliva to follow them to his ass as he pressed an eager digit inside.  He released a breath as he moved inside, curling his finger around and lightly pressing it deep before pulling out. 

He leaned over the captain, pressing their bodies together as he bared his teeth to kiss Byakuya, easing a second finger in as their lips met.

Byakuya gripped Ulquiorra’s hollow mask, wrapping his fingers around the horn and wrenching his head back.  He held the arrancar there, hovering just above his face as Ulquiorra continued to move his fingers in and out of that tight opening.  His dark eyes smouldered, wavering as they stared back, unmoving.  He shifted, never looking away as he reached along Ulquiorra’s body, feeling his way to press his fingers in beside the Espada’s scissoring digits.

Ulquiorra moaned as Byakuya’s fingers twined alongside his.  He couldn’t stop.  Wouldn’t stop fucking on those fingers that parted him and stroked alongside his own digits.  His body shuddered and he let his head fall forward; he wanted to moan, scream, and vocalize the feelings churning inside him like a storm.  The rumbling desire clashed against his ribs, filling him completely and suddenly the fingers were not enough.  Definitely not enough.  He withdrew his fingers, feeling Byakuya move away as he grabbed the shinigami’s erection in a determined grip.  The organ felt solid and soft beneath his fingers, he spat into his palm, slicking the engorged flesh and preparing it before he crawled forward, ready to seat himself on that burning shaft.

He needed to feel… needed Byakuya inside of him and he rushed along, feeling the head pressing against his ass, which still tried to tighten against its entry.  The Espada gritted his teeth and sat down further, releasing a gasp as he felt the head of Byakuya’s cock push inside him.  He braced himself on the shinigami’s chest, breathing deeply.  It took great effort to continue moving, moving downward with each exhale, finally seating himself in Byakuya’s lap, nearly shaking with effort. 

A throaty gasp broke Ulquiorra’s concentration, making him aware of Byakuya blindly digging his nails into his thighs.  That pain was only a small distraction from what the arrancar was feeling.  His entire body shook as he raised himself up, falling forward and he dropped down once more.  His cock was going soft as he moved, but he ignored it and began the slow, painful act of fucking. 

He had to keep going and pushed himself to never stop, even as he felt the captain’s shaft spread him open, tearing deeper inside.  He winced at the sensation, focusing on the fact that he was doing this to himself.  He could feel Byakuya’s dick forcing its way inside and he braced himself on the shinigami’s chest, doing little to hold back the long, rasping moan that built up inside him.  Nothing was holding him back, not even the pain.

He slid down, covered in cold sweat as his thighs tightened around Byakuya’s hips.  He took a deep breath, forcing himself up again, but finding it difficult as the captain held him down.  He looked down with dangerous green eyes, seeing the force the captain used to press into his thighs, locking him down into his lap.  Ulquiorra inhaled sharply, grinding his teeth as he tried to wrench back.  Attempted to rise up and begin the course of raw fucking he knew he wanted.  Damnit, he fucking _needed_ it!

Byakuya’s hands were firm, holding him down and keeping that delicious cock buried deep within his body.  His body which shuddered and Ulquiorra suddenly dropped his head forward, feeling the desperation pouring into his actions as he looked questioningly at the other man.  Wasn’t he supposed to want this?  To just keep going without holding back?

Byakuya held him tightly; unmoving, though the hardness in his eyes had softened.  “Do not rush this,” he said firmly. 

The Espada tightened his lips and braced himself against the shinigami’s chest.  “I just want…” he finally sighed, his fingers digging into the muscular body.  “I want…”

“Release,” Byakuya filled in knowingly, sadly.  He shifted, removing a hand from the arrancar’s hip and placing it against the pale chest, inches from the hollow hole.  “Do not force yourself.  There is no reason for either of us to impress the other,” he shifted, his fingers curling slightly.  “That is not what this is about.”

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes, “Don’t presume to instruct me, shinigami.”

Byakuya frowned.  “If I did not have to, then we would be enjoying ourselves right now instead of discussing this.”  He accentuated his words with a sharp, upward thrust that seemed to rip through Ulquiorra’s core.  “Now, pay attention, Espada.”  He thrust again, using the momentum to flip their positions, rolling Ulquiorra over so he lied on his back while Byakuya remained between his legs.  The green-eyed arrancar didn’t react right away.  He was taken by surprise, watching as Byakuya settled inside him, bowing low as he started moving again. 

It started out like a dance, or some writhing ceremony.  The shinigami moved gracefully, fluidly, like a snake about to devour its prey.  Ulquiorra licked his lips as the pain was replaced with something else; not pleasurable, but pleasant and sensual.  He could hear his breath in his ears and was surprised by how light and desperate he sounded.

Byakuya arched, baring his throat, chest and belly; everything was on display as he drew back, driving himself deep within Ulquiorra’s body.  Every movement the shinigami made was grand, perfect and Ulquiorra thrust his hips upward, wrapping a leg around his thigh and letting the captain go even deeper within his body.  He closed his eyes; this was much better than jerking off, much better than pain.

The shinigami moved above him, shaking the arrancar’s frame with every thrust and grazing against something within him that made him choke.  Ulquiorra broke free with a low, vibrating moan that seemed to emanate from every inch of his body.  The sound went through him and set something off inside him; he began fucking up into the body above him.  Somewhere along the line, he forgot all about his position, status, or anything else that dictated this was wrong.  What was a position?  All he knew was the weight of Byakuya’s frame pinning him under a mountain of sensations and wanton abandonment that he had never experienced before.

Not like this.

He arched up.

Never like this…

He dug his black nails into Byakuya’s back, spreading his legs wide and taking the other into him as deeply as he could.  His senses were filled with the smell of sweat and blood, his belly felt wet and sticky as his cock leaked his arousal over his navel.

Byakuya’s slick, jerking movements brushed him in just the right way.  Ulquiorra gasped, suddenly unable to fill his lungs with air.  His green eyes opened wide, but he couldn’t see anything except for the strong, dark-haired being above him.  That image filled his mind, the movements rubbed his nerves raw and he felt a tightness wrapped tightly within his belly.  It shifted, like a snake as it slowly uncoiled.  Loosened its grip on him and churned about inside him.  It rolled around inside him, touching every nerve, every raw piece of feeling and then it struck.  Biting into his chest as his orgasm ripped through him and filled his vision with white and black.  He was vaguely aware of the shinigami arching above him.  His body shook as he clamped down around Byakuya’s erection, sputtering release across his belly and, finally, he felt the shinigami stiffen above him, his erratic grinding growing short and he filled the arrancar with his release.

Ulquiorra lied there, letting his vision return to him.  He watched Byakuya, seeing those dark eyes flick down with satisfaction.  He released a breath as the shinigami laid him down and withdrew from his body.  He stayed there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling of the throne room and listening to the captain gathering his clothes before rolling over and slowly rising to his feet.

He stood, comfortable in his nakedness with his hands at his sides.  Things had settled back into something familiar; he was prepared to fight.  “I see what you mean,” he flexed his fingers.  He felt loose, unguarded.  He allowed his green eyes to rover over Byakuya’s form as he tied the bands around his waist.

“Do you wish to continue?” the shinigami asked as he turned to face him, resting a hand on the handle of his zanpaktou.

Ulquiorra watched, the action drawing attention to the weapon and bringing them both back to reality.  “I’m only to watch Las Noches and keep the woman here,” he said comfortably.  “My orders are not to fight with you…”

“Mine were only to assist Ichigo,” he seemed to tilt his head slightly.  Ulquiorra nodded at that; their silent agreeance to leave each other that one time.

Ulquiorra couldn’t help watching his figure turn and retreat into the darkness.  Byakuya always stood tall and strong, even though the responsibility of his status weighed heavily on his shoulders.  The Espada cracked his neck, pressing his shoulders back; now he knew how the captain found relief from that weight.


End file.
